


Supervisors' Meeting

by abigail89



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), NCIS
Genre: M/M, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:46:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigail89/pseuds/abigail89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>World-weary Gibbs and Coulson meet to clean up a mess left by their respective teams.</p><p>For weepingnaiad who requested an NCIS/Avengers crossover: Jethro Gibbs/Phil Coulson, and a handjob out back.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Supervisors' Meeting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weepingnaiad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/gifts).



> World-weary Gibbs and Coulson meet to clean up a mess left by their respective teams.
> 
> For weepingnaiad who requested an NCIS/Avengers crossover: Jethro Gibbs/Phil Coulson, and a handjob out back.

Jethro Gibbs looks up from the pad of paper he’s been taking notes on just in time to see another man come through the door.

The light outlines his head (a good head, dark hair, thinning); the man stops, takes a no-nonsense look around the room. When the door shuts off the backlight, Gibbs can finally see the man himself: plain black suit, white shirt, tie. Almost like Agent Fornell, but...not.

“You in charge here?” the man asks as he strides up to Gibbs’s table.

“Yep. Gibbs. NCIS.”

“Coulson. S.H.I.E.L.D.” They flip open their credentials in tandem.

Gibbs nods once. “These your people?” He points to the mass of bleeding humanity around him.

Coulson looks around. “Some. You?”

“Some. Looks like the guy with the goatee may have been ground zero.”

Coulson nods. “Figures.”

*~*

It’s several hours later before Gibbs is satisfied he’s sorted out the information he needs to brief Director Vance concerning what he’s coming to think of a 'shameful incident'.

“I _swear_ to you, Boss, I did not throw the first punch,” DiNozzo states emphatically. He’s holding a cold pack against his swollen lip; butterfly tape holds together the gash above his eye. Usually dapper and put together, DiNozzo is decidedly rumpled and bloodied.

“Uh-huh. Got that, Tony. But you didn’t exactly not participate.”

“I had to protect myself! And McGee.”

Aforesaid McGee is sitting with one of Coulson’s people, chatting with a guy with long blond hair and a great build. “McGee isn’t beaten up.”

“He did his share of pounding, but got out of the way pretty quickly,” Tony says, wincing as he talks. “Damn. I think one of my teeth is loose.” He tongues his right cheek. “It is. Aw, man. I just had that one capped!”

Gibbs gives him his half-smile. “Remind me to slap you tomorrow.”

Tony winces again. “Right, Boss!”

Coulson comes over to Gibbs. “The good news is the bar owner isn’t going to press charges because Stark has agreed to pay for the damages.” He looks over his notes. “There’s some discrepancy as to who threw--”

“Your guy hit a Federal agent, Coulson,” Gibbs says icily. “Our agency requires charges.”

Coulson stares at him for a heartbeat. “Fair enough. I’ll send Tony over in the morning.”

“I’ll be taking Stark with me right now,” Gibbs says, pulling on his jacket.

“Well, I’ll be taking Tony, er, DiNozzo with me,” Coulson replies. “Seems he’s not entirely innocent.”

Gibbs’s face clouds. “I can interrogate my own man.”

Coulson spreads his hands. “Ditto.”

Gibbs comes to stand closer, a tactic he uses to intimidate some, but Coulson uses the same tactic, so he’s not fazed in the least. They’re close enough to share the same breath, the same molecules of anger that fly between them. But then Gibbs smiles. “So why don’t we work together on this? My office isn’t far from here.”

“Nor is mine.”

Gibbs inclines his head. “Mine has a great coffee shop on the way.”

Coulson stares, and then blinks. “Ok, you win. But you’re buying.”

*~*

Several hours later, Gibbs and Coulson sit in the NCIS conference room, comparing the witness statements and the rest of the story from Stark and DiNozzo. “Well, Stark instigated it with his mouth, which is typical of him,” Coulson says, “and DiNozzo shot back, but Stark did in fact throw the first punch.”

“That’s what DiNozzo said.”

Coulson makes a note on his pad. “Does NCIS wish to press charges?”

Gibbs makes a sound in his throat. “Nah. I got DiNozzo to agree to drop the charges if I didn’t slap him in the morning.” Coulson looks at him. “It’s. . .our way.”

“Ah.”

The silence between them stretches. “More coffee?” Gibbs asks.

“Please.”

Gibbs gets up and pours them each a cup from the dispenser in the room. “Might be a little old. I think McGee made it when we got back here.” He hands a cup to Coulson, who takes a sip.

“It’s hot, that’s all that matters.”

Gibbs’s eyebrows rise and fall in amusement. “So how do you keep your guys in line?”

Coulson looks up. “Pardon?”

Gibbs nods. “From the looks of it, you have a rowdy bunch. How do you keep them from taking innocent bars apart?”

“For one thing, the Avengers isn’t really a team, not in the typical sense. They come together when the planet needs their particular skills sets. Otherwise they’re free to do as they please. You met just two--Stark and Thor. There are others who are off on other missions or working elsewhere.”

“So what do you do when they aren’t together?”

“Keep up with them. They like each other, so there’s always some configuration of the six together at any one time.” Coulson takes a sip of coffee again. “I like them, too. They’re all too smart for their own good. They can be a handful.”

Gibbs snorts softly. “Know the feeling.”

“You like your team?”

Gibbs smiles. “Best I’ve worked with. Ever.”

They both drink their coffee, enjoying the silence between them.

*~*

“Really shouldn’t be doing this,” Coulson gasps as Gibbs’s hands dive under his shirt. “There are cameras, aren’t there?”

Gibbs sucks on Coulson’s neck, eliciting a sinful moan. “I turned them off,” Gibbs says. ”That’s what the detour into the interrogation room was about.”

They push and shove against each other as jackets, belts, trousers fall to the ground. The evidence locker isn’t the best place, but it’s private this time of night. Gibbs worms his hand into Coulson’s briefs, grasping his hard cock.  


Coulson gasps again. “Oh god, I love your hand.”

“Gonna love it a lot more.”

Coulson wraps one hand around Gibbs’s neck, while the other fumbles with the slit on Gibbs’s boxers and finds victory. He pulls on Gibbs’s cock.

It’s frantic and inelegant, but knowing; hands move with experience and practiced ease, bringing the other off quickly, efficiently, exhaustively. They sag against the wall, against each other. Gibbs laughs first. “That was unexpected.”

“But necessary.” Coulson tucks himself back in and retrieves the trousers pooled around his shoes. “Still feel like slapping DiNozzo?”

“Most of the time,” Gibbs admits, pulling himself together. “Right now, what I really want is a good night’s sleep.”

“God, me, too.”

Gibbs looks down as he does up his belt. “I have a guest room.”

“That an invitation?” Coulson pulls his jacket on and checks his tie.

Gibbs nods and starts walking away. “Come on. Gotta stop for some breakfast makings if I’m gonna have company. Oh, and I think McGee is taking Stark and Thor home. Something about computer games.”

“That makes sense. Tony’s been teaching Thor.”

They step into the elevator wearily. “Guess we won’t see them for a while,” Gibbs says.

“Who knows? Maybe they won’t see us for a while,” Coulson offers, looking straight ahead.

Gibbs smiles. “Maybe.”


End file.
